Thin Love (Thin Love, #1)(149)
She smiles, flashes of them together, him taking her hard, then loving her and loving her again, playing like a slow loop in her mind. His touch, his mouth, his lovely, wide dick had brought her to the brink over and over. She thought no one could come that much; that the female body wasn’t capable of that many orgasms. Kona disproved all that.
A quick glance down her body and Keira sees the marks, lovely, faint purple bruises, several teeth marks that she will wear like a badge of honor. They could last a week, maybe two and the idea of more of them, twins to the colors across her skin, given to her in the weeks ahead…
The weeks ahead wipes the smile from Keira’s face.
They only had a few weeks until summer’s end. Steven’s estate would be organized by then. Those poor kids he never met, those abandoned women he treated like whores would get what remained. And then what? Where would she be? Nashville? Here with Kona?
He cares about her. She knows that. He loves Ransom. Keira had seen that in every glance Kona shot their son’s way. He is proud of the boy she’d raised. He wants to be a part of the man Ransom will become.
But where would that happen? Would he leave New Orleans and the opportunities here to live with them? Did he want to live with them?
Despite the infrequent mention of “always” they hadn’t discussed much last night. They teased each other, tortured each other with their tongues, with their bodies, but Kona didn’t say he still loved her. They hadn’t made plans for what would happen next.
He still hadn’t apologized. Not for what he’d told her that day. It was stupid, she knew, to hold onto that anger. It made no sense for that hurt, that betrayal to fester in her chest. She had Ransom. He’d been the offering Kona had made for his sins without ever knowing. Keira shouldn’t still be angry. But she thought she still needed the words. She needs that “sorry.”
A quick roll on her back and Keira watches Kona sleep. There is a small grin on his face and his features are relaxed; that forehead smooth, mouth unclenched; sated, happy. She wants to stare at him. She wants to spend the day watching him sleep. Keira wants to curl against his chest, have his arms around her. But for how long?
And then her life in Nashville comes back to her. The responsibilities she’s created for herself. The obligations.
Keira closes her eyes, feeling a hefty weight of guilt, remorse coiling in her chest. She’d spent the night with Kona free of worry; free from anything that would take her attention from his touch, his smell. She’d acted like a teenager without a care in the world. The last time she did that, she’d ended up shattered, broken and her belly swollen by a baby.
Ransom could stay with Kona. The thought makes her heart shutter, but it’s what her son needs. He’d be with Leann, with Tristan and finally have the father he needed. But Keira? Coming back here with all the ghosts of the past eager to consume her? No. She can’t do it.
Turning away from Kona, she eases off the mattress, movements slow, quiet as she searches the room for her clothes. She’ll leave him a note. He’ll have to understand. She has a life back in Tennessee and Kona isn’t a part of it. He has his own plans, his own obligations.
“Where are you going?” He sits up in bed, thin sheet around his waist, dipped so Keira could see the hard grooves of his stomach, the deep indentions near his hips.
She can’t look at him. She can’t let him change her mind. He’ll argue with her, try to convince her that she should stay. She just… can’t.
“It’s late,” she finally says, fastening her bra, ignoring how delicious Kona’s deep voice sounds, how his hair is rumpled from sleep. “I’ve got things to do today.”
She upturns the thick duvet on the floor searching for her shirt and notices Kona’s head turning, eyes on his clock. “It’s seven a.m. What could you possibly have to do at seven a.m.?”
“I’ve got a meeting.” It’s a lie, a bad one, but Keira doesn’t look at him, keeps her intentions off her face. Keira’s shirt is wrinkled and she shakes it out. “So do you.” Back to him, she sits on the mattress, picking lint off her shirt before she tugs it on. Behind her, Kona slips to the end of the bed, just the sheet covering him and she closes her eyes when he touches her, stopping her as she tries to dress.
“Hey. What is this?”
She looks at him, gives him a brief, dispassionate kiss. Her smile is forced, that touch too brief and she knows Kona won’t buy that she isn’t hurrying away from him. “This is me getting dressed. That’s all this is.” She gives him another quick peck and comes off the bed picking up her jeans from the dresser.
“I know what this is,” he says, not stopping when he hears her heavy sigh.
“What are you talking about, Kona? I’m just getting dressed. I can’t stay in bed all day.” Her jeans are up, zipper fastened and Keira decides to be flippant; not to let on to why she’s really leaving. She can’t linger here, can’t put off what has to be done. She tries not to watch him as he slides from the bed; the sheet falls back and his wide back, that gloriously naked ass doesn’t jiggle or flinch as he pulls on his jeans.
One black ballet slipper is under the dresser, the other, somewhere Keira can’t see and she stops, stepping back when Kona stands in front of her, hands holding her arms. “You’re running.”